Touka Koukan
by Requiem of Silence
Summary: Edward has watched a detached world slowly die and he scrambles to leave the hell he trapped himself in to pay the price. Alphonse, too, finds his hell and would do anything to bring Edward back. What must they give, to receive eachother again?
1. I: And The Curtain of Rain Pulls Back

**Touka Koukan**

A Fullmetal Alchemist Alternate Universe

**Chapter I: **And the Curtain of Rain Pulls Back

Author's Note: Buwahahahahahahah! I TOLD you I'd get it out::cough: My first FMA fic. I have yet to see the FMA movie, the "real" conclusion to the series so if anyone has it I'll pay you whatever you want. (I really, really want that movie, but it's not even out in Japan!)

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by a bunch of dudes who are a lot ricer than me. I own none of these characters. Thanks for reading and enjoy after these messages . . .

**Spoiler Warning!** **If you haven't seen the whole series I suggest approaching this written work with EXTREME caution. **

Other Warnings: Names may be a bit messed since my subtitled version sucks like a vacuum cleaner. Names for everything. Like an 'array' is a 'matrix' (or maybe a 'transmutation circle'?), or 'equivalent exchange' is 'alchemistical equilibrium', 'chimeras' are 'synthesized monsters', and 'Lior' is 'Rioru'. Please correct me and give me the right names please! Also, swearing and yaoi will creep up. Trust me.

The rain poured down. The streets were left with various dry patches as the cars rolled by one after the other. Each sound of rolling tires entered Edward's mind and he committed it to memory. He heaved a long sigh. Life without alchemy was a thing he would never get used to. Carrying a gun and dagger to protect him was even more of a burden to him than this life. For what did he come for? He shifted his briefcase from one hand to the other. He didn't want to wave to a taxi. Those things, automobiles, cars, whatever they called them nowadays, killed their world. Even after the Second World War human beings still could not appreciate their lives and their environment. Beyond the door, was it the same? Did people do these acts of gross indifference where he had his origins?

His world. How long had it been? Almost a century, take away a decade or two. Eighty long years since he'd given Alphonse, his dearest loved one, back his body in trade of his life. Did Al still remember him, he often wondered. Was the younger Elric still alive? What of Winry and Pinako, Rose and her child. Did the baby have a name yet? He would never rest. He had long lost the need for sleep and only a plate of food and water would suffice for a week of his life. Now was the age where science was used to further medicine and to create easier and faster alternatives. How he longed for his own world. He remembered everything, all his memories penned in an old note book, constantly being repaired and rebound. He didn't want to become like Al after they tried to dig up the secrets of the Fifth Institute. Thinking it was all a dream, wondering if he existed at all. By all records, he honestly didn't. No registry, no identification to prove he was Edward Elric, a rumored doctor and scientist with the body of a seventeen-year-old and the wisdom of one a hundred times his age. His finger prints would prove to have only one set. He had learned to maintain his automail almost as well as Winry. His friend still had the tender touch to make his armor better than he could ever do with what he'd learned about the metal armor. Now, however, he kept it in a sort of glove (or sock) to hide the automail. It was still a piece of fine machinery and God knew what idiot would come and rip his arm off, much less his leg.

Edward shook his head and another low whistle escaping his lips. What could he do now, staying in Tokyo? He had come for absolutely no reason other than he had a feeling. These feelings made him come closer and closer to the other side. Somehow, alchemy could be used here. There was a breach. Somewhere. His abilities were coming back to him. He had tried with a simple matrix and his shock and elation was over rode by curiosity when he came up with a rather beat up toy car. It reminded him of Alphonse and his little things that they'd surprise their mother with. However, despite this welcome news he couldn't do much of anything except for small tasks like fixing a vase. Recalling the ease he had fixing Holling's wife's vase at Youswell he shook his head. So long ago he probably would have been able to repair a whole city without one damned matrix in a matter of days, or hours. Now he could just about summon an earth shield without keeling over. Be damned this world and its stupid ignorance of alchemy.

Edward crossed to the other side, dashing away from a passing car. He continued his damp walk through the city. It was overcome with population, traffic, and noise. He couldn't find any reason to stay. How would he be able to find the door?

In his boredom he had begun to let his mind wander.

His father he had never seen again after he had left. He never found the man he was looking for. The alchemist could properly assume he died before he found him or had fled the country. Edward had been wandering ever since, tracking down all information about rocketry, mechanics, botany, anything to get him closer to a different place. A jack-of-all-trades, he had been called. He was the master of everything. He loathed the title 'expert', for he had read and agreed with the cynical saying that experts learn more and more about less and less until eventually they know everything there is to know about nothing.

Rockets shuttled into space today and there was a massive amount of blank there. He had lost hope that there was anything worthwhile in the vast expanse of the universe outside Earth that could help him find the door. Even with the absurd amount of days he could spend with no sleep, food, water, or companionship he was still human. He needed to breathe. Staying in a shuttle for years upon centuries was not something he'd call smart. His heart needed precious oxygen and even going out to space with alchemy was not just stupidity, it was suicide. Izumi insisted that one should not rely on alchemy to solve one's problems. He now lived by the principle. Not by choice.

He tried at geography as well. There was always something going on in Japan and sometimes strange things happened in America. Studies on the occult as well, just to know what this world did believe in. Alchemy was one of the things. A bunch of bull, for the most part. Lead into gold was not only forbidden but selfish. Any alchemist who tried a stunt like that was not worthy to know the art.

Granted, he did so once but the pieces were restored and it went unsaid so . . . heh. Not his problem.

This world could not be so dissimilar from his own, could it? But it was. The only similarities were the evil deeds committed by both sides. However, he doubted the world leaders invested thousands of dollars to try and make the Philosopher's Stone, much less charge a kid to do such things.

"IIE! Leave me alone!"

He groaned inwardly. Another crisis so soon after his attempted robbery. Things went by far too quickly for him in this era. He rounded a corner and into an alley. No matter where he was, heinous acts were done in an alley. Murder, rape, robberies. It seemed to be an unavoidable cliché among evil people. When he and his brother were blown apart by Scar it was in an alley. This one was parallel to that place. Memories. As strong a will as he had, his mind was filled with images of the scarred man from the east. He held his forehead, containing the break in his dam of emotions.

"Gaijin?"

"What is a European doing here?"

"Maybe he's American."

"I hear they're loaded."

The victimized boy who had first called Ed's attention allowed no sound while the three men marveled at the man who appeared before them. To the child, it was fascinating to see such an outsider. His dirty blonde hair in a high ponytail, golden eyes not quite visible behind dark glasses. Hands snug with black leather gloves and a red shirt under a long black cloak. His entire body was covered, save for his face. He was so young, too.

Of the bullies, the tallest and broadest grinned. "He smells rich."

Another, this one scrawny and a foot shorter than the intruder, had already raised an outdated rifle. "Hand over everything on you, prick."

"Who are you calling a prick, asshole?" Edward replied, already in a loose stance, one Alphonse favored. "I'm gonna break your legs and then pound your arms to gravel. Then cut your hands off. That's what humans used to do in the old days to robbers, you know?" He glanced at the boy cowering behind the three. His clothes were torn and his school bag was on the floor, the contents strewn over the cobblestone. "I can guess that's what was happening. Unless you're in for murder. Then I'd really have to do something mean." A smirk infected his visage. Something about those eyes, that twisted mouth. It unnerved them. They could not get past him without first going through him.

Staunch smells of upcoming battle and garbage lingered. "Ready?" Edward asked. "I am."

A grunt and cry from the three was his response. Each attacked with a weapon. A rifle, a club, a hammer. Why attack a child with these weapons? The thought made him sick. He punched them out in a deft manner, not sparing them or allowing mercy to form on his limbs and allow them to be conscious when he left. He estimated that by the knocks they'd all have wakened up at around two the next morning.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his voice gentle as to not further upset the boy by the messy way he had demolished the armed trio.

The boy nodded. "Who are you?"

He chose his reply carefully. "Edward Elric. I won't ask your name, I didn't want to tell you mine. But you asked and I answered so you do the same for me, where do you live?" Equal exchange in value. Alchemy applied to life, he doubted that anyone could convince him otherwise.

"With my mother and father and brother." The child's cheeks were heated. He felt embarrassed for sort of forcing this Elric boy to state his name. "I am Shuichi Hatanaka."

"Oh, is that so?" Edward said, trying to engage his rescue in conversation while he did a slight body check. "Eh . . . but what I mean is what street and that?"

Shuichi nodded. "Sorry . . . I - " A sharp intake of breath was heard as Ed touched a tender spot near his ribs. He lifted the white blouse some and saw a purple bruise forming there. 'They kicked him here.' He requested for Shuichi to hold out his arms and the boy did so. More purplish bruises and some slashes. He could see right into Shuichi's eyes. Barry Chopper came to mind. Mortal fear. It made them human. Or seem human. Wrath's face sprang up. He was afraid of death. Or at least to go through the door.

"Elric-san, am I going to die?" Shuichi asked. Tears grew on his eyes. The rain washed away some of the blood and it soaked Edward's clothes instead.

Edward looked at him, a mute understanding in his golden optics. He knew how it felt to almost die. It had happened to him on both sides. How could he forget? Emotions will be remembered long after the memory is forgotten. He wished for neither to be lost. Al had proven memory makes one's identity. (To take lines from another anime, 'If you were not remembered you never existed.') "No, Shuichi. You're going to live. Just you wait, you can eat takoyaki in no time."

Chuckling, the boy dropped his arms. "I like takoyaki," he replied. "Niisan knows how to make it really well."

His mouth twitched. A younger brother. Yet another person who had a little brother to take care of. He wasn't worthy of one. He had done an unforgivable sin the night they tried to revive their mother. The night he killed Alphonse.

The child's grip startled him. Shuichi leaned on the walls and grasped Edward's shoulder firmly. "Can you help me?" he asked, a bit sheepish.

"Oh . . . " Edward smiled and wrapped the boy's arm around his shoulders and lifted him up onto his back. Blood seeped from Shuichi's clothing onto Edward's jacket and slid to the ground, creating droplets of red liquid from the end of the alley. Edward bent down and picked up all of Hatanaka's papers and bag, tucking them under his arm. "So, Shuichi-kun. I'll take you home now." The alchemist spoke as calmly as he could, Shuichi tethered to his sanity and consciousness only by a comforting presence, stranger or not. 'If I only knew where that was,' he thought.

Alchemy, to his knowledge, could not be used to search for places. That was saved for magic and such wand waving bull shit was a bunch of blarney in both sides of the door. The most he could do for this kind of work was to make a compass and God knew that wasn't any help at all. "Shuichi, tell me your street."

"Risanpuru . . ." the boy murmured.

Edward quirked an eyebrow. 'Risanpuru?' He didn't have the chance to ask as Shuichi's body slumped down and more weight was added. "Kuso," he swore. Now the kid was unconscious. He'd have to go knocking at every door on this street. He didn't even know where it was! Maybe he should have asked. The police station was his safest bet. He could grab a map and leave.

The idea was good at the time, but the Fullmetal alchemist was rudely addressed by the officers on guard. He could swear that one of them was a copy of Colonel Archer. He snatched a map away from one of the teasing police men and scooted out of the place as soon as he caught it. "Risanpuru . . . Risanpuru," he pulled off his mirror shades and replaced them with thin, square framed glasses. He had to resort to the damned things a decade ago. It sucked big ones to see his reflection, so much like his father. He may have forgiven him, but that feeling of resentment lingered.

He was not too far from this road, a crescent, actually, and proceeded towards the appropriate course. 'Maybe I can jump a few roofs,' he thought. That was unfeasible, however. He couldn't do it and still keep it smooth in hopes that the boy's wounds wouldn't reopen. "Shimatta," he cussed again. The trek was annoying. Edward remembered carrying Alphonse around, if not for a little fun because of some kind of pain that occurred with their rough housing or by pure accident. A faint smile gathered on his lips. What of Alphonse now? The only reason he woke up in the morning was because of Al and Winry, Rose, Pinako and Izumi. You have legs, walk forward. It was his own rule, and he was barely getting by with it.

He could guess that Roy Mustang was now Fuhrer. He was a commendable soldier, after all, and the man had ambition. 'I should stop scrounging up the past,' he mused. 'But it's that that keeps people going. What if all there is left for someone is a distant memory?' He could understand how brazen his preaching was when he was still in his early teens. Maybe not brazen, but hypocritical.

A low rumble and indistinct language was whispered in his ear. Edward whirled around, a shadow passing between his sights. Then two. Three more. Edward closed his eyes, blocking the sounds of falling rain, the touch of warm liquid and hair plastered to his face, conversations. The loss of his alchemy was like losing his motor skills. He realized that he was over reliant, strengthening himself was more important than his alchemy for a time and now that he could use it again he needed to enhance that too. So complicated. It was frustrating for his situation to change over and over. Edward's reveries were becoming more and more prominent throughout his waking time and even more thickly spread whenever his eyes closed. He tucked the glasses into his pocket.

The alchemist heard a low moan, a ghastly sound that seemed to be attempting German spoke. "Fullmetal, if you value what life you have left then give the boy," one growled.

"Bastard, why the hell should I!" The Fullmetal comment got to him, but his mind was already churning out a battle strategy.

The attackers wasted no time answering the Elric. Swipes at his flesh limbs were dodged, always missing by a hair's breath. "Damn!" He grabbed the dagger from his belt and lashed out against them. He could not see there faces, he could only feel their blows and bite his lip. The voices whispered, taunting him in an unknown tongue. He could hear the mocking, even if he couldn't understand their words they made fury build in his mind. Running a little out of the area he was mugged by the invisible creatures, he darted from place to place, hitting where the rain was not falling. "Shut up!"

A wild strike was stopped by flesh. He almost fainted at the shrill scream. The urge subsided by the morbid satisfaction of feeling blood. So slick between his fingers. In mad desperation, he turned to where his knife still pierced the being's flesh and attacked. It collapsed. Now it could be seen. Searing pain jolted him out of his state. Between confusion, horror, shock, there was a beast. It was so similar to the unfinished homunculus, right after alchemizing. Inhuman, grotesque. Limbs waved in the air, spasms rocking its frame. One would wonder how the Elric had not hit such a large target sooner.

No time. There was no time. Thick life coursed down his back. "Aw, I really liked that jacket," he said. "You're going to have to pay for it!" He kicked at the next beast with his automail. He ran across the field again.

"Gotcha!" he exclaimed. "Now you're dead!" He clapped and placed his hands on the ground at the edge of the matrix he had formed.

Spikes came from the ground, the ten foot alchemy circle glowing as the beasts dissolved into ashes. The Fullmetal Alchemist breathed, heaving long breaths, trying to keep the world from spinning. "What the hell was that about?" he asked. Heaving the child up, he decided it smarter to take him to the nearest hospital instead.

The warmth of the morning bathed the guests. It had been but two days before the water coming from the heavens threatened to flood the town. Thanks to a certain son of Hoenheim the day was now a bit kinder. Alphonse and Winry took turns playing with Alicia Hughes. Alphonse grinned at little Alicia.

"It's nice you came back from your training, Al," Winry said, picking up a doll.

The only living Elric smiled, concealing his desire to sleep. "Only for a while, sensei said I've been working too hard."

Frowning, Winry gave the toy to Alicia and shooed her off to go play with Black Hayate. She turned to Al. "She's right. Five years and this is only your second visit back! I worry, Pania worries, Grandma worries, you know everyone's concerned." The technician did worry very much for the fifteen-year-old Alphonse. He was good enough to know that human alchemy was possible, if forbidden. Although, it eased all of them somewhat to know that Izumi Curtis and her husband were keeping the young and talented alchemist busy. Besides, Alphonse wasn't stupid. He was unusually perceptive and empathic for someone his age.

Al matched Winry's frown. He couldn't hide his frustration and let out, "Why are you always so worried about me! I'm strong! You never fussed over Ed!"

Her expression looked hurt. "Al . . . no. We did worry about him. A lot," she whispered. "Ed didn't . . . doesn't . . . want anyone else to take responsibility for his actions, even if they weren't his fault. And - And - "

"You know, Alphonse, you're a very good alchemist but even the best of us can't change people's feelings," the Fire Alchemist laughed.

Saluting, Al grinned, happy to get away from Winry's stumbling words and the vague memory of his brother. The automail technician flushed. "Hello Mustang-taisa."

"Taisa? I'm a Brigadier General, thank you very much," Roy huffed. "And soon I will be President!"

Gracia peeked out through the door frame. "Oh! Mustang-san. I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting you."

"No one was," he affirmed. "Right, Alphonse?"

The Thunder Cloud alchemist nodded. "Why are you here?"

With a smug look, the Major General pulled out an envelope. "The next clue," he said, trying to hide the graveness in his voice. This was Al's tenth mission. Even Mrs. Curtis didn't know that Alphonse had taken the test to be a Nationally-Certified State Alchemist. Obviously, Winry didn't catch wind of it either, despite the boy's broad hints. She blinked three times before snatching the manila file that Al had pulled out.

"When were you going to tell me you were a National Alchemist!" she demanded. "Do you know what Izumi'd say! She'd kill you! She'd dig up your bones and turn it into a toilet! You're in big trouble! Especially with me! Why didn't you tell me! Do you have to be so STUPID!" She looked ready to kill the young boy as well. For a moment to her, this wasn't Alphonse anymore.

Alphonse flushed. "I have to find niisan," he answered. Winry was petrified. How odd, that brothers think so alike. He pried the file out of her hands and opened it, sifting through the data with a minute per page average. "I don't understand," he breathed. "What does this have to do with niisan?"

"A few things," Roy replied. "Just go to Zenotime."

'Tringham? What do they have to do with Edward?'

To be continued!

Sorry for bounding around a lot with the Edward narrative. I have this disease where topics can never stay put for more than ten seconds.

Out of curiosity, does anyone besides me actually like the ending of FMA? I was thrilled by it. It was the perfect way to end such a series.

_Next Time; Chapter Two: The Thunder Cloud Alchemist_

_Alphonse: Niisan. I will find you one day. Until then, I will work for the military, following in your foot steps._


	2. II: The Thunder Cloud Alchemist

**Touka Koukan**

**Chapter II:** Thunder Cloud Alchemist

Author's Note: Nothing much to say, really. As I'm typing, the first chapter sits and waits in my hard drive so I can't say thank you to any nice (or critical) reviewers who happened to wander across my fic. :sniff: I bet the reviews were horrible. I didn't like the first chapter but it's unfixable. XP

* * *

On a crisp morning such as that day it would have been a sin deadlier than pride to stay inside the stuffy caboose of a train, yet that was what Alphonse Elric was doing. He couldn't complain. He had joined up for the army himself without any pushing or hinting from his family or friends. Not even Roy dared approach Alphonse with an offer. He'd made up his mind to go look for his brother using the military's resources at his disposal.

Alphonse missed Edward. Five years had done quite a bit of twiddling with his memory but he could gather that his brother was a compassionate person but sensitive about being called short. They fought a lot but he loved his brother so much. Pinako-baachan had told him a lot of stories, along with Colonel Armstrong and Lieutenant Havoc. They talked about Edward's acute sense of right and wrong and some grand adventures his brother had gone through. They all commented on their likeness, except that he was a lot smarter than Ed. He had asked several times where was he when so-and-so happened and the story tellers grew uncomfortable, squirming in their seats, looking guilty as they drew up the same story of why. His brother was a military jackal and he couldn't come with him. One reason he'd joined.

He looked up to his brother, in awe that he didn't need a matrix to use his alchemy. In physical fighting everyone agreed that Alphonse could beat his brother to the ground. He remembered all the fights they had. He remembered the day they had caught that fish. And their mother.

He didn't wear the military uniform. The long-sleeved ebon shirt was under a light blue vest. His other accessories and pants were gray. He had snuck into the room Edward stayed in and had taken his red coat and suit case. He felt he needed to keep his older brother with him, however possible.

"I'm going to get Niisan back," he said, resolved. It was a promise they had made together. He knew it. The train whistled and began to slow, easing into the platform.

Stepping in to the gold digging town's train station was like walking into a mine shaft. It was covered and the walls and ceiling looked more like they pulled out a section of a mountain and placed the track through the tunnel. It was even more stifling in there than the caboose. It couldn't be helped, he'd just have to get out soon. Alphonse hefted the suitcase and ran out into the sunlight, past the workers and into town. The people talking around him, the marketplace, the children, everything would remind him of Liezenbul and Doublis. It seemed he could not escape them even if he wanted to.

"Uncle, may I have this?" a girl a few years younger than him asked, tugging a black-haired man's sleeve. She held a cute purse with garish beads stuck to it, trying to look fanciful. It resembled a clown's costume caught in a hand bag, but the child seemed to like it.

"Of course, Elisa," he smiled.

She held the purse to her chest. "Thank you, Uncle Belrush."

Did he have an uncle? Thinking about it, the closest thing he had to one was Mason-san, Curtis-san, Brigadier Mustang and Colonel Armstrong. Captain Hawkeye, and First Lieutenant Ross were like aunts and Lieutenants Breda, Fuery, and Havoc and Sergeants Bloch and Farman were his cousins. Pinako would always be his Grandma and Rose was like a sister and her baby, was like a little brother. Winry . . . He didn't know what to make of Winry. He liked her before, but she was too old for him. She was more like, a sister.

Geh. What he needed to focus on was the Tringham's. "Russell and Fletcher Tringham. Leaf and Vine Alchemists, accepted a year prior. Russell nineteen years old and Fletcher fourteen years old. Lives in Zenotime," he recited from the file. "The habitation is relatively small compared to the tree house." He sighed. It was Brigadier Mustang who wrote up the information, what the heck did he mean by tree house? Damn that man, him and his word puzzles.

He didn't bother dwelling on it for long. He could ask around, Zenotime was a small town. Everybody knew anybody, after all. "Excuse me," he said, waving to a young woman. "Would you happen to know where the Tringhams live?"

She looked him up and down. "You're a State Alchemist, right?" So she saw his pocket watch. Not surprising, actually. He had it around his neck like a pendant.

"Hai," he nodded.

The woman had a grim expression, like she didn't know whether to be pleased or furious that a military jackal had run through town. He doubted he was the first, or the last. Zenotime was having a prosperous plantation now that the red water was finally dug out and disposed of and occasionally officers were sent to check on them. Some did a bit more than that, however. Bad rep. That was all. "You're going the right way, and pretty close. Keep walking until you find a large building made of glass and walk around it. A green home should be somewhere there and then you can ring the doorbell."

Al grinned. "Thank you!" He handed her a bill for her troubles and hurried down. A large building made of glass? Wouldn't that be fun. He chewed on a strand of hair nervously. He'd developed the habit when his hair had grown longer, long enough that the bangs swept away from his face covered his gray eye, for which his State Alchemist name had been derived. His cut was a little more wild from his child hood, dark blond locks going past his ears. The hair would get into his face and he'd push it back in annoyance every once in a while. Still, he liked it. After begging Izumi he was allowed to keep it like that.

Finally there, he was beginning to wonder how the people mearsured here. It was half an hour's walk to the glass building and 'large' was a sad understatement. Elephantine did some justice, but not enough. He peered through the walls, marvelling at the plants. There was a boy about his age who was feeding fertilizer to one of the smaller breeds that they'd been growing. There were various assortments of roses, chrysanthemums, daffodils, lillies, but most of the plants had no flowers and were vines or trees that covered the east side of the wall. The hollow faces carved into the bark scared him.

"Ahhh . . . I'm never going to make it! This in-door garden is as long as the street to get here! Maybe I should just knock right now," he mused. "That should be Fletcher. Would he mind?" Raising his fist to knock, an unexpected kick to the head sent him flying away.

He knew who it was and shook his head, desperate to get rid of the pain. "Idiot!" she hollered. A shadow moved over him. 'Oh God,' he thought, 'I don't wanna die!'

"Why didn't you tell me you were a State Alchemist!" she screamed, kicking his stomach to roll him over. Alphonse stumbled and kneeled in front of her. "Did you think I wouldn't find out!"

"G - gom - m - en n - nasai - i, sensei," Alphonse stuttered, half out of fear and half from the stinging blows.

* * *

Russell Tringham was very busy. It didn't help when he saw a letter from East Central Commandaddressing him. "Niisan, did you pretend you were Edward again?" Fletcher asked, bright blue eyes skimming over the mail in his older brother's hand.

"No," he replied evenly, "I haven't done anything against the law for nearly four years."

The younger Tringham bobbed his head. "Yes, and I suppose that means extorting from Mr. Farring last month wasn't illegal? You amost got killed by the police, ya know? It's a good thing you're a State Alchemist or else they probably would have stuck you in jail for a long time." His personality had gotten a little more out-going since the Elrics had last seen him while Russell had sobered up some.

Leaf Alchemist sighed, muttering, "I thought you were sick that day."

"You think too little, niisan!" Fletcher chirped. He smirked as his brother would. He stood on his toes and looked over Russell's shoulder. Noticing it was Brigadier General Mustang's hand writing, he began reading as follows:

_Hello again Leaf Alchemist and Vine Alchemist,_

_As you probably know, the Thunder Cloud Alchemist has followed in Fullmetal's foot steps (pardon the cliche) and has decided to try and use our resources to find his brother. I'm going to tell this to you once. If you don't want to start paying off your bills by being my maid then remember this, you have never met Alphonse and you have seen Edward only a month ago. **Say otherwise watch your back and don't go to sleep.**_

_-Brigadier General Roy Mustang _

_P.S. Don't let Al find this._

Russell sweatdropped.

"I think he forgot a comma," Fletcher observed.

His older brother laughed, ruffling the boy's hair. "This is fertilizer, okay?" He handed the paper and envelope over and Fletcher nodded, running into the back room where all their plants were. The remaining Tringham cleared his table and began sweeping up the room.

This time he'd try to be more welcoming. You usually don't get a chance to make a better second first impression. He did this more for his brother, who seemed to have taken a liking to Alphonse, both sharing common ideals, goals, family, and voice. The last scared the hell out of Russell. Fletcher had an ambitious, intelligent, quick-tempered and mildly touched-in-the-head older brother, Al had an angsty, _genius_, more-than-hot-tempered and very touched-in-the-head older brother. It fit so well. Of course, Russ was still taller than Ed.

A knock on the door stirred Russell from his serious job of manually taking away all of the mess in the two story house/research building they lived in. Serious because there was an Olympus of trash building in their abode. Sighing, he quickly alchemized the work away. He'd tried avoiding using alchemy as a sort of training to help him grow in strength and restraint. Unfortunately, he was down to one more use of alchemy lest waste an entire year abstaining.

A sharp clang of a bell sounded. Russell had a bit more work to do but kicked it into a dark corner of the room. He erased the matrix and strut to the door. Was it Al? He had only received pictures of the boy whenever he asked for them from the Brigadier. He gathered that Alphonse's memory was lost. Nothing there about alchemy when he was revived, and only pieces of memory about Edward. Russell's suspicion itched. Why would Fullmetal erase those memories? What if this Alphonse was a homunculus he'd heard so much about?

But maybe Edward did pay the price. He alchemized himself in exchange for Alphonse. Human alchemization is never perfect.

Homunculi were the failed experiments, though. Alphonse's alchemization was a success. How could he be artificial?

Fletcher had already gotten to the door and was looking through the peephole, looking stupefied.

"Is it Al?" he asked.

The younger one shook his head slowly. "No. I think it's . . . Izumi Curtis."

Russell paled. "N - no . . ." He back pedalled into the wall, bumping into a vase and almost knocking it over. Mrs. Curtis's reputation preceeded her. The Leaf Alchemist lunged forward and grabbed Fletcher, tugging him down. "Did she see you?" he demanded. "Tell me she didn't see you!"

The Vine Alchemist recalled the stories that had been shared about Izumi and her husband. Each time he remembered one, the color drained from his face. "Niisan . . ." he stuttered. "She saw me." Silence passed. The two tried to work out the solution. From what Winry had told Colonel Armstrong who had told Brigadier Mustang who had told them, Mrs. Curtis was a housewife crossed over with a violent, maniacal bitch. Mr. Curtis was huge, scary, and had enough muscles to impress Colonel Armstrong. Fearsome duo? Even in Zenotime, that was an understatement.

"Niisan," Fletcher trembled, "I'm scared."

Splinters burst from their door as a hulking mass ripped it from its hinges. Twin yelps rang out as the two drastically contrasted husband-wife team dragged in a boy. By their guesses, he was Al. "You," she said, pointing at them. "Do you know Edward Elric?"

* * *

Brigadier General. He turned the name over and over in his head. He had come back three years before, having recovered from what was thought to be serious injury that may have life time effects. The only scar that would last his life was the unwanted and uncalled for farewell present from the last President. Now, Hakuro was their President and doing quite a good job of keeping any wars from escalating.

A sum of the power being shifted to political leaders got mixed reactions. Mustang didn't like it. What made congress men so much more efficient than those in the army? They were not the war-mongering tyrants trying to feed their own ego, as the public had thought. Insensitive bastards. They didn't know what war did to soldiers. Still, he would be President soon. He was being promoted. He could sense it. Hakuro and himself had been on level playing fields for some time now and he was starting to gain favor and the upper hand.

He read through the latest report by Thunder Cloud. This was just recording the status on the living conditions and such of the Ishbal refugees. The boy was thorough. Much better at solving problems and writing and giving reports than his brother.

Word games were a lot of fun with both Elrics, though Al tended to receive the blows and slowly turn them against Mustang while Edward would answer with an onslaught of swearing and insults. Verbal banter was so amusing, how could the Flame Alchemist avoid it? Alphonse was starting to learn chess, as well. Edward already knew how to play. Mustang thought it would be an interesting match to pit them against each other, or work together to beat him. Ah, but the report. How could he pick at the Thunder Cloud Alchemist this time?

"Hmm, Rick and Leo are doing well. The Seig would like more water because the well has been dry . . . too small living quarters?" Roy sighed. Al was too kind for his own good. If they spent money on the Ishbal people then the citizens would be infuriarated. They didn't seem to understand that the late _Fuhrer_ was at fault for the Ishbal massacre and that their loved ones were killed because of homunculi and the nerves lost by idiotic soldiers of both sides. Unfortunately, he lumped in with those idiotic soldiers. He had no real proof, however. If the truth spread to just one more person the legend of the Philosopher's Stone would only grow more appealing in its danger and success.

Alphonse was the first perfect case of human alchemization and Edward paid the price to give him that. Still, the question remained, how could Al's memory be so selective?

_"I'll make everyone forget about the kenja no ishi!"_

Black Hayate whined and rested his muzzle on Roy's lap. The Flame Alchemist petted the black and white dog, smiling at the canine's keen empathy. "Yo, Mustang," Jean Havoc greeted, sitting down at the table. "I'm the first one here, huh?" His cigarette was put out on the tray and he went to light another one.

"It would seem," he replied curtly.

Lieutenant Havoc breathed in, letting out a halo of fine smoke. "What's wrong this time?"

"When everyone's here I'll tell you," the Brigadier General said, enjoying his brevity. When he looked up from his papers they were there. "Ah, Lieutenants, Sergeant and Warrant Officer. Welcome. I find it hard to believe few of you haven't been promoted yet, since you are all very punctual." He eyed them with his usual teasing glance.

"Please, spare us the pleasantries," Havoc said, rolling his eyes.

"Brigadier Mustang, what is this all about?" Fuery asked.

First Lieutenant Ross nodded. "I would like to know as well as the whole room. What's your motive for bringing us here?"

His fingers laced under his chin as he regarded the group. It was fortunate they were not discharged from the army in the first place. "This is about Thunder Cloud."

A murmur descended and not soon after questions of concern began rearing.

"What's wrong with Alphonse-kun?"

"Is he dead?"

"Did he find out about Edward-san already?"

"Al didn't . . . you know . . . ?"

Mustang didn't know whether to turn green or kill himself laughing. "No, he's perfectly alive without any knowledge of Edward's rampant escapades and, by all reports, has remained sexually inactive," he said in an even tone. "However, he has started paying more and more attention to the jobs Fullmetal covered and is in Zenotime as we speak."

Sergeant Bloch rubbed his chin. "So he's going backwards?"

"Yes, and I can't do anything about it," Roy sighed.

Ross shot a glare at the lethargic officer. "Brigadier General Mustang, you are his commanding officer. Can't you with hold information and not give him these missions?" She had the same look as Hawkeye, becoming just as ready to pull the trigger as the lieutenant.

A look of indecision flickered in his expression. The room was silent as the military underlings of Mustang studied their leader. Lieutenant Ross was the first to speak, saluting, "I apologize, Brigadier General Mustang. That was out of my rank." She knew her place in the army, even if she didn't like it. It was treasonous to speak to a commanding officer like that. The wrath of the higher-ups can be swift.

Steepled fingers laid themselves on the table. "No need, First Lieutenant Ross. Ahem. Thunder Cloud has remained oblivious," Mustang said, catching up from where the outburst had cut, "but these cover ups will not last much longer. If he runs into someone who can not be bribed by the military or does not know his condition, the chances that he'll learn everything about his brother are enormous. We can't lose another state alchemist to the Philosopher's Stone."

It dawned on them what the Brigadier General wanted from the assembled team. "_You_ want _us_ to be _damage control _!" Havoc demanded.

"Brigadier General, I don't think it's wise to keep everything from Al, we should tell him," Sergeant Farman said. "Or at least tell him enough for him to stay at peace."

"That's a death wish," Mustang retorted. "Do you want the Curtis's and Rockbell's to kill us all?" The company paled at the thought. "If Ms. Rockbell or Mrs. Curtis wanted Al to know, they'd have told him already."

Fuery blurted out the thoughts that had plagued him since the conference topic had been introduced. "Is Edward-san really dead, then?"

Once more, Mustang's office was devoid of any sound. "His records in the army's listing states that he's now a colonel," Lieutenant Ross murmured.

Breaking the unbearable contemplative silence, Havoc asked, "So, why isn't Captain Hawkeye here?"

"She's on a leave of abscence," Roy replied, grateful that Havoc could break the ice easily enough with the military officers. (Too bad he didn't have that kind of luck with women.) "And before you ask, Armstrong-taisa is on a job."

"Really?" Fuery blinked. "Is he gathering intelligence with some men again?"

"Something like that," Farman answered for Roy, "he's delving into the hangings at Central."

Breda raised an eyebrow. "Hangings?"

"You haven't heard yet?" Mustang murmured.

"There's a bunch of suicides at Central and all of them tied a rope to their neck and jumped from the same building," Jean said. "It could all be because it's a great spot to hang out (Pardon the pun), but the victims were grabbing at their neck and there was blood on their hands and their fingernails looked like they were clawing the wall, as if they didn't want to jump. There were actually long red streaks on the walls and some even left whole pieces of their flesh."

Cain shivered. "Maybe they didn't want to die after all?" Breda offered. "Having second thoughts after the jump and it's too late."

Mustang shook his head. "No, because one was found early enough."

Ross nodded. "A young male, Francis Black. He claimed someone tied the rope around his neck and then pushed him," she said.

"He died soon after from suspicious cause," Denny Bloch said, "so he couldn't be questioned further. His story looked very bad, though, because it changed constantly. Since Francis was a college student aiming high with a reputation some officers believed he made up the story to cover up the fact he was under so much stress and needed help."

Roy stood. "In any case, that is beside the point. First Lieutenant Ross and Sergeant Bloch are going straight to Zenotime. Lieutenant Havoc and Lieutenant Breda, you're heading to Aquroya and Sergeant Farman and Sergeant Fuery will travel to Youswell."

"Hai! Mustang-junsho!"

"Here that? I can get a feel of Psiren's ass!"

"I hope Alphonse-kun hasn't already left."

"I heard they hate the military. Maybe we should pack a gun . . . or a tent."

"Maybe Al won't find any of those guys."

"How are we supposed to know who to tell that Alphonse is the armored guy! He's tall but not _that_ tall."

"Taller than Edward."

* * *

To be continued

I had to put the last part in, sorry. :cough: The devil made me do it.

I like the 'tree house' bit. I put that in on a whim and it seemed a little like Mustang. He does appear to be the type who plays with crosswords all day and obssesses over word games, ne?

Oh, and I will have the next chapter up next week, guaranteed. After that you can expect for me to curl up and die for a few months or get obssessed with something else. (Not likely, my obsession dies when I see the Hagaren movie and not until.)

_Next Time; Chapter Three: Ignorance is Bliss _

Edward: I could have done better. Now I realize the error caused by my hastiness. Al . . . I'm sorry.


	3. III: Ignorance is Bliss

**Touka Koukan  
  
Chapter III:** Ignorance is Bliss

Author's Note: Once again, I am rushing ahead to write the third chapter before my writing ideas flow away and I can no longer keep my promise. I know right now I should be working on meeting that deadline (today, June 30) but, gods, it is so freaking _hard_ when you can't think of anything _but_ FMA! What a curse. Anyways, this chapter is completely Edward-central and surprisingly, he's a very hard character to write for. :sweatdrop: I can't get in character with him and give him a situation to act on. It's very difficult.

Anyways, thanks to all those who reviewed! I hope to read your fics as well and offer the same support. And if you flamed . . . :shrug:

* * *

"It's all right, really," Edward said, scratching the base of his neck nervously. What would he do right now to have Al with him? He adjusted his glasses to stop himself from the habit of doing 'that neck-thing', it was starting to cause a rash.

"Nonsense!" Mr. Hatanaka said. "I insist you spend the night with us! It's really only fair that you should after saving Shuichi."

The other woman smiled and nodded. There was a young man there too, probably the age he looked. His messy black hair was bleached in several streaks on his bangs. The house was relatively western, not a trace of the Orient in a normal looking neighbourhood. It was small and cozy. Not exactly the way Edward would like it, surrounded by a stifling amount of populus but who can complain? He couldn't pay for the hotel room anymore and God knew what manner of store was open to exchange currency at this hour of the night. The mix of foreign money felt burdening in his leather wallet.

"Please, Elric-sensei. Stay a while," Mrs. Hatanaka added to the conversation. "The least we can do."

"Yes, Elric-sensei, as thanks for saving my little brother," Kyouya Hatanaka finished.

Ed sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Oh, fine. But I'm only staying to look after Shuichi's injuries."

"Thank you," the father said. "Please come in."

Heentered after the family and surveyed the room. Stopping short, he took off his shoes and laid them in a corner before stepping on the tatami mats. "Where is Shuichi?" he asked. looking about the house. It was impressive. A mix of Eastern and Western styles to make a sort of caught-between-the-cultures look. It made some sense. The mother had blonde hair and jade eyes. Maybe she was the one who governed most of the decor.

Mr. Hatanaka smiled. "I'm happy there's a kind enough doctor to be so concerned. He's upstairs resting. I have a beeper if he needs anything," he explained.

Yes, he probably didn't need it though. All of the wounds were actually a lot better than Ed thought they were. They were healing fairly quickly, with proper treatment in the hospital, of course. Still, the mental trauma could be significant. Getting mugged by a bunch of guys and you're only thirteen? That's . . . not good.

"Oh." Ed forced a smile and followed Kyouya, who beckoned him to the kitchen.

"I'm sorry, we only have riceballs for now, since Mom wasn't expecting any guests," he apologized, handing Ed a plate of the food.

"Eh?" He took them and glanced at Kyouya. A bit young, but that face definitely resembled the Colonel Bastard. "Thanks, but I'm okay. Really."

Kyouya raised an eyebrow but said nothing, instead taking back the riceballs and wrapping them with plastic. Ed rolled his eyes at the dejected way the boy did it.His mother walked in and said the same thing Kyouya did. "So, did you give our guest some, Kyouya-kun?" she asked.

Beforethe elder Hatanakabrothercould answer Ed stepped in. "Yeah! Umm, thanks a lot! Tasted great, but I'm worried about Shuichi, 'cause he's been through a lot and lost a lot of blood. Can I go and change his bandages? Maybe now that it's a little cleaner I can check for more extensive damage that might have been . . . uh . . . missed." He grinned to try and convince her it was all right. His charisma was taken from his father, it seemed.

"Of course," she said, leading him up a flight of stairs. It was a rather narrow winding thing that creaked loudly if you got on the wrong step. The third, fifth, tenth, and sixteenth ones, to be exact. Edward filed the thought away. He probably would need to sneak out after leaving some instructions on how to take care of the injuries. It wasn't that he was cold-blooded and didn't care, because he obviously did care if he kept insisting on seeing the child, but he couldn't make an attachment any longer than he needed to. He travelled and worked under a different name anyways. Only special patients knew his birth name.

"Here it is, and sorry if it's a bit messy. Shuichi likes drawing," Mrs. Hatanaka apologized before hand.

"Really?" Ed asked, trying to keep the mood light.

The woman went in first. She was taller than him, to his dismay (he hadn't looked up at someone for a very long time), so he couldn't even see above her shoulder by craning his neck. "Shuichi, how are you feeling, dear? You shouldn't keep that hunk of metal, Shuichi-chan, it's been bad luck since you got it from the alley. No wonder they threw it out."

"But, you can't! It . . . ah . . . it looks nice in my room," he floundered, trying to convince his mother it was all right.

Ed raised an eyebrow but thought nothing of it, and instead looked at the ceiling. And he looked. And he looked. His eyes widened. Long sweeping lines, curving and twisting. Thick curves rounding into soft zig zags across the white surface. The color like midnight had been ripped from the Earth in a pattern and placed to stare at, morning and evening. A coal pheonix. The alchemy matrix. And it couldn't just be any kind. It was _the_ circle. Death's design. One of the symbols used to make the Philosopher's Stone.

"It's pretty, isn't it?" Shuichi asked.

The Fullmetal stared at the boy. "Pretty?" he whispered. "Pretty?"

"I found it in my room one day and thought it looked so cool. I had to draw it and Mom said it was okay to do it on the ceiling." He continued rambling about something or other, probably lightened by the fact that Ed had saved him and he felt safe with the blond foreigner in the room.

Ed gave a weak smile and walked in, his mother already in the little boy's room picking up dozens of scattered papers. All with different alchemy symbols on it. Armstrong's, Tucker's, even Majihal's. He stared at them all, facination and a striking feeling that resembled fear in his being. A cloth was draped over a bulky thing in the corner of the wall. The mother must have covered the metal junk to avoid being further embarassed.

Mechanically, Ed walked to Shuichi and unraveled the bandages. "Hm," he spared, not concentrating on the wounds as much as he should have. The picture of Dante's crest on the boy's head board was just a little too overwhelming for him.

"Honestly! If you weren't a top student, I'd have taken all these things a long time ago," Mrs. Hatanaka muttered, piling all the leaves onto a wooden desk.

Edwardpulled a balm and put it on the wounds, rubbing so that it caused little pain or discomfort. All this was second nature to him, he moved to each bruise, while wondering how in God's name that kid could ever have gotten his hands on all of these symbols.

"Thanks," Shuichi said, grinning. "I'm sorry for causing so much trouble! Ah . . . I shouldn't have been walking there."

"That's right, what has your brother always been telling you?" Mrs. Hatanaka said. She flashed a smile at Ed and closed the door.

"Hmm," Edward answered. He closed the bottle and rummaged through his bag. Bringing out new strips, he gently wrapped them first around the right forearm.

The little boy cocked his head to the side. "Elric-san?" he asked. His eyes looked curiously at him. "Why are you so quiet?"

"Ah . . . no reason. Rough night," he asnwered, trying to keep his wracking nerves from creeping in to his voice.

Several minutes had passed, the quiet both comfortable and threatening to drive them both insane. "Ya wanna see it?" Shuichi asked.

"Huh?" Ed asked, hearing a double entendre. He smiled weakly again. "See what, Shuichi-kun?"

"The armor!" he chirped.

"Armor . . ." He felt like blacking out. His head spun as Al filled his mind. Al. God, he missed him. The armor. He felt like screaming. Just screaming and waking up all of Japan. Scream till his lungs burst or he died. He wanted to do something stupid. Something reckless. He wanted to feel alive again, because since he came here it felt like a half-way point between life and death. He wanted to go home. More than anything. More than life. More than this world. He wanted . . . he wanted . . .

Shuichi swung his legs off the bed and pulled off the curtain. There it was. Ed felt crestfallen. It was horrible. He shouldn't have hoped. He shouldn't have hoped that Al was here. That he was still an armor with a soul. Why had he hoped that? He was so selfish. He wiped his eyes with the prosthetic limb, tears starting to form in his eyes and threatening to break and crawl down his cheeks.

"Wha - what's wrong?" the boy asked, looking fearful. Looking between Ed and the armor, he hastily put the cloth up and went over to Ed, who had covered his face and buried it in the folds of the bed. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" he repeated over and over. "I'm sorry!"

"No, no," Edward said, laughing. "I - I thought that was the armor I was looking for, and it's not. It's okay." He patted the boy's shoulder, being careful not to hit the tender spots. "It's okay."

To him, it was a mixed feeling. Not everything was okay, but it was all right. Alphonse wasn't here but back home. That was right. It was not okay for him, being so lonely, but it was right. Al had his body and he could feel and be. It was all right.

Wishing Shuichi good night, he headed into the guest room and took out his lap top, fiddling with the controls and turning it on. A tape recorder lay beside the mouse pad. He found the mouse easier than the built-in one on the portable computer. Flicking on the recorder, he documented the day.

"Audio journal, July the fourteenth, 2003. I found out today just how desperately I want to go back home . . . how much I miss Al."

Later that evening, Edward sneaked about the house. Tip-toeing out into the hall and down the stairs, avoiding the supremely squeeky stairs. He laida note and the materials and money for the wounds and for the night's stay. American bills, but that was okay. It was just past one in the morning.

A stray kitten meowed from a street corner, reminding him of Al's tender spot for the felines.

He didn't sleep all night, instead stalking the outside of Shuichi's room, seeing a yellow glow eminating from from his room. It lasted long into the evening before it was put out. Edward glared at the curtains and nimbly climbed up the wall, grabbing onto the window sill. He was used to this kind of thing, he had to climb into several attics of houses to sleep (even if he wasn't entirely in need of it, rest was a nice, calming way to remind himself that somehow he was human), but this time he didn't bring anything to scare away the insects or raccoons. Only a flashlight.

Prying open the window sill, he slipped in easily. His thin frame crept around the room, being as silent as he could as he shuffled papers and felt more and more tightening around his stomach, with every piece reminding him how he missed everyone. What he wouldn't give to see Envy again. The homunculus was a pain in the ass, granted, but he was also the only reasonable person he actually wanted to talk to. After Hohenheim officially died, his sons that had both gone through the Gate with brazen confidence were left to decide whether they wanted to slit each other's throats or patch it up. Envy was leaning more for the former than the latter.

_"But it would be pathetic fighting you when you don't want to live anymore. I'll wait until you have more to lose, so your screams will be louder and your pain even greater."_

Ed stumbled on Al's matrix and he choked up. Hugging the paper to his aching chest, he let the tears slip down his face. He could cry in the dark, when no one was looking. No one to ask why and no one to offer pity. That was good. Stuffing the paper into his pocket, he shifted around and found he knew all of them, every single one.

Every alchemist has their personal matrix. They start out with a standard one, and eventually make their own. Depending on what kind of matter they know to deconstruct, their symbols maybe be more curved or blocky. Some look almost alike, but rarely are there exactly the same matrixes. Though, there is always an inner and outer circle with lines touching or crossing the inner circle. With him, his clap allows the circle that alchemy's number one principle is based off of is completed.

There are plenty of alchemists in his world, and he has not met all of them, but every one of these transmutation circles were the ones for whom he has met.

It was unfeasible that it was a coincidence.

"Konbanwa, Elric-san."

Edward looked up at Shuichi, whose smirk widened as their eyes met. "Do you like them, Elric-san? Drawing them reminded me a lot of you."

"Oh," the Fullmetal Alchemist said, his eyes narrowing. "Speak of the Devil, I was just thinking about you, Envy."

"First name basis then? All right, Ed," Shuichi's form changed as the well-known Sin sat where Shuichi was lying. "Well then, I guess you're wondering why I'm here, right?"

"Always," Ed mumbled.

Envy shrugged and leapt off the bed. "Well, you probably haven't noticed but since we agreed not to go homicidal on each other, I've been tracking you to see when that time would come when the cease fire ends." He emphasized the sentence by snapping a pencil in two. "That time may never come, unfortunately."

Fullmetal said nothing in reply, but he did let it sink in that Envy thought right now he was a worthless piece of shit compared to his former self.

"Aw, what's the matter? Can't stand to think that I was watching you. All the time. While you served in the Army. While you killed endlessly with your experimentation. While you fluctuated from riches to poverty in a matter of months. While you wasted away your life, reading and theorising and making rockets and bombs that helped to make a war escalate. While your genius was used in conventions and you shared your knowledge. While you weer being outsmarted and current science became a drag and you ran from one subject to another." Envy passed his hand through Ed's hair in an affectionate and ridiculing way, changing his appearance to that of Alphonse Heiderich. The blond slapped it out of his way.

"Son of a bitch," Edward hissed. "Keep your hands to yourself and have some respect for the dead."

"Yes, your temper always was as short as your stature, wasn't it Ed?" Envy mocked, shifting back to his usual appearance.

Ed rolled his eyes. "If you were watching me all this time then you'd know that doesn't work anymore."

"I know," Envy answered flippantly, falling back onto the bed cross-legged. "But I thought one more for old times sake wouldn't hurt."

"Old times sake?" he snorted. "Sure. Old times sake."

"That's why you're here though. Am I right?" Envy asked, his I-know-something-you-don't-know smile bigger than ever.

"Cut the crap. What are you getting to?" Edward growled. The sin was more annoying than he remembered him to be. Maybe letting Envy out of his sight to look for the Gate was a bad idea after all.

Envy regarded him with cold violet eyes. "Al," he said simply.

"Al!" Ed leapt on the homunculus and pinned him to the bed, arms digging into his shoulders. "What about Al!"

His eyes went from Ed's to Fullmetal's right arm. "Keeping up that thing, eh? Even with the glove, it's easy to tell it's not real."

"Quit bullshitting, Envy! Where's Al!" He felt like he could tear off Envy's arms and fling them straight into the sea. The Sin's legs were pinned down and he struggled under Edward's grip. Ed tightened his grasp even more and Envy's arms started turning red. "What do you know about him!"

"Scare tactics don't work, Ed," Envy breathed. "You can't kill me any more than you can do your alchemy."

"What! You want a deal!" Fullmetal demanded.

"Don't raise your voice, shorty, or the family will wake up," Envy warned, his body changing to Shuichi's. Edward felt the change in body mass and he could barely adjust to the difference in size. Envy must have planned it from the beginning.

"Elric, what are you doing here!" Kyouya asked, a horrified expression on his face. This charming blond doctor . . . on Shuichi . . . like that . . . "Get off him!" The black-haired boy charged at Edward and pulled him off Shuichi. "Are you okay, bro?" he asked.

Tears quickly filled 'Shuichi's' eyes. "Niisan . . ." Shuichi threw himself on Kyouya and the older brother hugged him tightly.

"You lying con artist!" Edward roared, pointing an accusing finger at Envy. "You deceiving bastard! Stealing people's faces! Do you enjoy destroying my life?"

"I could say the same thing to you! Mom! Dad!" Kyouya called his mother and father and they came rushing into the room.

"Kyouya!"

"What's going on?"

Edward was out the window in an instant. The three humans never saw him come or go.

-To Be Continued-

End Notes: Envy, I had to put him in. Cliche, maybe, but that was fun. The heated conversation was closed in a way the made it seem very . . . overdone. It was inevitable, though. I mean, when Edward gets worked up about something he can't keep his voice down. What he misses in height he makes up for in lungs.

Ah, anways, I made the chapter short so I could put it up faster. Shortest so far, but I'm thinking about making the chapters shorter for easier reading. Not so short you don't have to scrolll down. but not so long it's a novel all in one chappie. Also, plot holes in the story. I hate plot holes but what I hate more is fixing them. Please, please if you noticed one ignore it.

Again, thank you so much for the reviews! I like having them because I tend to get motivated if people bother to write one and more motivation means faster chapters up which means this fic won't die and go in the recycle bin! Ain't it great?

* * *

_Next time; Chapter Four: Deception Well Meant _

Alphonse: How will I know for sure what truth is, until I know that lies are easier to take.


End file.
